Remember Us
by SeulWolfe
Summary: Written for Slashfest 2007::Summary::Remember us, was the last words he said to his friend. It's taken many lifetimes for Dilios to come full circle and remember them. DiliosLeonidas


Title::Remember Us

Author/Artist:: calanor

Requester:: goldenarcher

Fandom::300

Pairing::Leonidas/Dilios

Rating::PG

Wordcount::1485

Warnings:: Spoilers for the movie..

Summary::Remember us, was the last words he said to his friend. It's taken many lifetimes for Dilios to come full circle and remember them.Disclaimer::The graphic Novel rights belong to Frank Miller, which I used as a reference. The Movie 300 belongs to Warner Bros. The tittle taken from the soundtrack, 300 belongs to Tyler Bates. The history belongs to the ages..

A/N::I used reincarnation as a basis for this ficlet.. but I hope you like goldenarcher

**Remember Us**

He flinched in his sleep.

Reliving the past again and again. Of wars long done and over with. Of blood and death. All of the lives he's lived. The most prominent was that he was once King Leonidas, of Sparta.

The great King who led three hundred Spartan men to fight against the Persians for three days.

The man now known as Leo Mitropoulos had begun having dreams of the past. It all started when he took a trip to Greece the year before to visit his sister and her husband. As he walked the streets of Sparta, he felt as he'd been here before. As if he had walked the streets long ago.

The same, but not. Sometimes he would see a flash of something in the corner of his eye.

He wasn't seeing modern day Sparta.

He was seeing the past.

Some of the flashes brought an ache to his chest. He had forgotten something. Or someone.

It all came to a head a few days later when his brother in law decided to have a seance at a party they were hosting for friends and family. His sister was fascinated by all things mystical and had invited a psychic to the gathering. They had sat down at the dining room table. The flighty woman started talking and the hair on his arms stood up as if the very air around him had become electrified.

Images came at him as the room he was in faded away. He found himself standing on a hill with another man. One eye was covered with a red cloth.

His name: Dilios.

The words he had spoken he could not hear. All he knew is that he watched the man named, Dilios walk away with the others. Thousands left. A handful stayed.

And died.

For honor.

For Victory.

For freedom.

Since that night, Leo had taken to meditating again. To learn more of these images. What they meant.

He had attended a lecture at the nearby Oxford University, about the three hundred Spartans who died at Thermopylae . It was there he met Dilios Tatapolous, a Greek Archaeologist and Historian of Greek Literature. Just seeing the man brought him flashes of another.

Approaching the man after the lecture, he invited him for tea or a drink at a nearby pub. They both talked until closing time, shook hands, and Leo watched the man walk away, hail a cab, and throw him a shy smile before he rode away.

That night and every night after, Leo was plagued with more dreams. More vivid than the night before. More of blood. Of a woman.

Him learning to fight as a young boy. Meeting his friend for the first time. Testing the waters as lovers.

Dilios.

Dilios was his name.

Leo sat up in his bed, shaking off the images lingering in his mind. Unable to sleep again, actually when he did sleep, it was filled with images of war. His last conversation with Dilios. Sometimes he's a boy learning the ways of a soldier. Most often of his time speaking with Dilios.

The nights spent together. Two souls forever intertwined.

His last words as he sent him back. The scene still fresh in his mind.

_Flashback..._

_Leonidas, King of Sparta, watched as his old and dearest friend walked away. A defeated slump in his body. 'I sent him back because he has a talent. He will deliver my final orders to the council with force and verve... and he will make every Greek know what __**happened **__here. I also sent him back because I could not stand to see him die.'_

_Remember us. _

His last test as a boy of Sparta. His excursion into the wilderness. Confronting a feral wolf in the pass. His return with the dead wolf and his initiation becoming a warrior. A soldier.

Then King.

King of Sparta.

Leo had gotten up in only his drawstring pajama pants, making his way towards the liquor cabinet to pour himself something strong and smooth. His favorite twenty-one year old Scotch single malt whiskey. He poured two fingers in a glass, then drinking it all in one. Pouring himself another, he took the bottle with him as he sat on the large couch in front of the fireplace. The heat was welcomed on this cold winter night. The city of Glasgow had been hit with one their infrequent snowstorms just yesterday.

To bad he didn't have anyone to share warmth with. He felt listless, an unending restlessness of his soul. Leo had finally remembered after all these lifetimes and his lover hadn't.

He was just about to pull the throw from the back of the couch when someone knocked on the door of his flat. Looking at the clock, it was just after midnight. Who could that be?

The only person it could be was his ex-wife and she didn't even know he was back in Scotland. Lena could be such a bloody bitch sometimes. Especially when the Ambassador of France dumped her before returning to his homeland. Thank god his son was at boarding school and didn't have to see his mother change boyfriends like yesterday's news.

pqpqpq

Dr. Dilios Tatapolous, Professor of Greek Archaeologist and Historian of Greek Literature, was a quiet man who loved his simple life and his work. His friends and family often told him he was the one and only man who could and would get lost in his books and artifacts of the past. That he lived for his work. And he did. Nothing else mattered.

That was until six months ago when Leo 'Leonidas' Mitropoulos came to one of his lectures about the battle of Thermopylae. His eyes had been drawn to the mere presence of the man. Rugged looking with curly hair and sporting a five o'clock shadow, with dark penetrating eyes that seared his soul.

Dilios never saw himself as being attracted to another man before. Women for that matter as well. They just confused him. Relationship were just to complicated for him to deal with on a day to day basis.

Since since he had divorced his own wife five years ago, he often told his parents, that women were too high-maintenance. She craved and indulged in the life of parties and high society that she felt befitted the wife of a well known and highly respected Professor.

He let her have her parties and her social climbing, until he came home one night and found her in bed with one of his students. Not soon after the incident, that student transferred to another university.

In the five years since, he hadn't taken notice of anyone. Until now. Until Leo. And then there were the dreams. And the words.

_Remember us. _

Dreams of an Ancient Sparta. Learning the art of war. To be a soldier with swords, spears and his shield. Then nights of sweaty skin and hard bodies, questing hands and possessively aggressive kisses. Vows of commitment, loyalty, and brotherhood. He learned how to love from the man who would be King.

Leonidas.

Dilios spent the past six months shifting through these awakening memories of a former life. During his own schooling and teaching he had come across those who said they'd lived another life. Studies and written history of cultures that believed in being reincarnated. He scoffed at this so called theory.

Not anymore. The dreams were too real; too much detail for even his own analytical mind to conjure.

He'd sat out in the street, in his land-rover, trying to work up the courage to walk up and knock on the door. His own soul searching had brought him this far. Now he just needed his legs to bring him the rest of the way.

Here he stood; one hard rap on the wooden door in front of him. Dilios almost turned away in fear. Until the door opened and Leo stood before him bare from the waist up. His mouth went dry and his hand suddenly itched to touch the warm flesh. Leonidas looked at him calmly, knowingly, as he fought the internal struggle.

"Leo," he whispered.

"Dilios."

"I remembered." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I remembered us."

A slow soft smile appeared on Leo's face as he reached out for his old and new friend. For the man who haunted his dreams. "Dilios, welcome home."

_-finis- but is it ever... ..  
_

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